I killed someone.
It was easier than expected and that scares me more than anything else out there. Where is the guilt I’m supposed to feel? I used to think the stench was the rotting flesh, but now I know.
It’s us.
The real monsters.

Buildings burn as frenzied survivors try to contain the Outbreak. Quarantined areas now lay in ashes as hope for those inside died when they wouldn’t. Ability to communicate diminishes more and more each day. The panic is real and survival is no longer guaranteed. The world you once knew now teeters dangerously towards a darkness with each decision you make… read other survivors’ stories